Page 33 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
His butler passed, carrying a tray. He was about to go up the staircase when Huon stopped him.
“Change of plans,” Huon said. “Serve breakfast in the dining room, after all.” He bent his head to his butler’s and whispered something in his ear.
“Very good, sir,” the butler said, turning around.
Huon invited me into the dining room. I glanced toward the taxi waiting for me. My cases were in the back seat. I signaled to the driver that I would only be a few moments while I finished the cup of coffee. I was going to need its stimulating effects if I wanted to stay awake all day.
Once we were seated at the polished table, Huon gave me his news. “You are looking at the newest businessman to gain a government contract.”
“What?” He wasn’t making sense. Or perhaps my mind wasn’t working properly. It was beginning to feel woolly from lack of sleep.
He beamed. “My invisible messaging business will provide services to the Ministry of Labour, but I can’t tell you in which particular aspect of their vast portfolio. Let’s just say, my service will become more important if the government’s theory about the rise of trade unions is proved correct.”
“I’m so pleased for you, Huon.”
“Thank you. I’m pleased for me, too.”
“Did you tell your father about the contract?” I knew Huon’s relationship with his father had been a rocky one ever since Huon demobbed. Instead of returning to the family’s ink-manufacturing business after the war, he’d settled into a hedonistic life that revolved around the next party.
“I telephoned him yesterday. He said he was proud of me. Then he said he’d reinstate my allowance to tide me over until the business returns a decent profit.”
“Wonderful.”
“I told him where to shove it. I don’t need his help.”
“Family is important, Huon. Don’t cut yourself off from them.” Tears suddenly welled as I thought about the aunts and cousins I’d found. I might never see them again.
“Are you all right, Sylv?”
I nodded and attempted a smile. “I should go. My taxi is waiting.”
“Nonsense. Stay for breakfast.” He asked the footman who’d been bringing in covered platters and placing them on the sideboard to pay the driver.
“Oh, no, don’t,” I said, rising. “I need that taxi.”
“Nonsense,” Huon said again. “You need to eat something. You look peaky. Besides, I want you to see that I’ve become a better person. More settled and mature.”
I sighed as I watched the footman leave. I really ought to go after him, but I suddenly didn’t have the energy. “Yes, of course,” I murmured dully.
“Then I want you to tell Petra how much I’ve improved.”
“I can’t. I?—”
“Please, Sylv. Do it for me. I really like her, and I am trying very hard to be the man she deserves.”
My eyes welled with tears again as I realized I would never see how things played out between Huon and Petra. I would never be part of their lives, or Daisy’s. Would she and Alex find a way to be together? I was going to miss so much. I was going to miss them all, my dear friends.
Huon saw my distress but got the wrong end of the stick. “Don’t fret, dearest Sylvia. We will find a way to surmount the differences between our families, as long as Petra sees me as worthy enough to put up a fight when her parents inevitably tell her ink is inferior to graphite. So will you go to bat for me?”
“I can’t. I won’t see her?—”
“Actually, you can see her now.” He stood and held out a hand toward the door.
I spun around to see Petra standing quite still in the doorway. She stared at me with an expression somewhere between confusion and sheer panic.
“Sylvia! What are you doing here at this hour?”
I was about to ask the same question, until I realized the answer was rather obvious. Unlike Huon, she was at least dressed, but her hair hung loose past her shoulders. She must have come downstairs in a hurry after the butler sent someone up to fetch her when I arrived.
